A Thanksgiving I will always remember

November 26, 2024

I don’t have pictures for this memory. It happened in 1959. I was twelve and we didn’t take pictures of everything then, but this story is filed away in my memory.

My family had moved 1,000 miles from our home in Macon, Georgia, to North Kansas City, Missouri. My father moved us so he could attend Midwestern Seminary. He had convinced two pastor friends to do the same thing so there were three families that transplanted from Georgia to Missouri.

As a 7th grader (along with my twin brother), our first year in junior high was a very hard adjustment. We talked differently, and at that age it was very important to fit in. PE class was tough. One of the girls in my class said she thought I was from a different country because I said “Yes ma’ am” to my gym teacher.

We had left all our relatives behind, and we were approaching a holiday without them. I remember my mother crying at the end of one of the church services and a kind lady comforted her, thinking she was responding to the sermon. Mother didn’t have the heart to tell her she was crying because she was homesick.

My dad’s role had changed too. He was no longer a pastor, but a student with a job at night working on a car assembly line at one of the automobile plants. It was hard work.

The Humphreys invited us to their home for Thanksgiving dinner. They also invited one of the other Georgia families who didn’t have a place to go. The Humphreys went to our church and one of their sons was the same age as a boy in the other family and Donna Humphrey (yay for me that I remember her name) was my age and went to my school.

They had a beautiful home and all the Thanksgiving fare. We brought pumpkin pies. They had assigned the two families an item to bring. I remember Mr. Humphrey asked: “Where is the whipped cream?” That wasn’t a tradition in Georgia! We didn’t know we should bring whipped cream, but we got along fine without it.

After the meal, the children were invited to the rec room in their expansive basement. There was a large table for games, etc., and there were shelves with all kinds of entertainment. My memory is that they had some paint-by-number sets and after asking permission from the parents, some of us painted while others played games. We spent the afternoon in that setting. What fun! Our parents came and got us to join them on a walk.

When we returned, there were leftovers to enjoy.

And then we said our goodbyes because it was dark by now. We had all had a good time, good food, and had experienced the love of a family who knew we needed a “family” to be with on Thanksgiving.

We certainly had a reason to give thanks.

David, the writer of many psalms, gives us these familiar verses.

Psalm 100—A Psalm of praise

Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all ye lands.

Serve the Lord with gladness: come before his presence with singing.

Know ye that the Lord he is God: it is he that hath made us and not we ourselves; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.

Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name.

For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting; and his truth endureth to all generations.